


Distraction

by fiveainley_ohmy



Series: Dare Not Speak Its Name [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Scene, Character Study, Episode: The Abominable Bride, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Sad Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes and Drug Use, Sherlock's Mind Palace, one-sided sheriarty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8226589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Or, an alternate way the gun blowjob scene I MEAN Holmes vs Moriarty scene could have gone.





	

Holmes sighed wearily, pushing away the scraps of newsprint for the Ricoletti case and leaving them there. Mrs. Hudson could pick them up tomorrow morning. For now...bedtime.

He carefully replaced the syringe in its case and tucked it away in his desk drawer. How _could_ Moriarty have survived, he asked himself for the umpteenth time since seeing that dreaded card attached to the cadaver of Sir Eustace Carmichael - _Miss me?_ Not even his seven percent solution had helped suss that one out.

When Holmes entered his bedroom and began shrugging out of his royal blue dressing gown, he was taken by surprise as the fabric was taken from his shoulders by an anonymous pair of hands. "Let me handle that, hm?" said a warm, lovely voice.

Holmes looked over his shoulder in shock. "Watson?!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" He was quite sure Joh-... _Watson_ was at home with his wife...wasn't he?

The good doctor chuckled. "I'm always here, my boy. Come now, it's late. To bed with you, and I won't hear of any arguing."

Holmes found he could do nothing but blink in confusion as Watson began unbuttoning his waistcoat. "But...Mary..."

Watson shushed him soothingly. "Mary means nothing in here, Sherlock. It's just you and me."

"'Sherlock'?" the detective repeated as his collar and necktie joined his waistcoat on the chair by his bureau. "Not that I mind, but a bit familiar for friends, don't you think?"

"Perhaps..." Watson lightly traced one of his cheekbones. The normal warmth of John's oceanic blue irises seemed amplified tonight, his deep pupils enlarged, and Sherlock suspected it had nothing to do with the dim candlelight. Watson smiled wickedly up at him, in a way that Holmes had only dared every dream of, in his darkest, most secret, most erotic of fantasies. "But we've never been just friends, have we, Sherlock." He leaned forward to press his lips to Sherlock's exposed neck.

Sherlock gasped. John left a trail of kisses along his throat, running the tip of his tongue over that one sensitive spot behind his earlobe that made him go crazy. "Come along, my darling," John rumbled in his ear, warm, dark, and irresistible, like hot fudge. "You've worked so hard. Let yourself go for once."

"This - this isn't right, John," Sherlock stammered as John continued to tease him with lips, teeth, and tongue. "Your wife-"

"Will never be the wiser," John said calmly. "Besides...you know as well as I do she's not the one I'm really in love with."

Before Sherlock could protest anymore, John's lips were on his, kissing him deeply, and Sherlock moaned, quite thoroughly losing all coherent trains of thought. He melted into John's sure, strong embrace, clinging to his sturdy upper arms as John kissed the breath out of him.

"That's it," John whispered seductively between kisses. "Just give in."

Sherlock felt himself being pressed back onto the feather mattress, his body sinking under John's solid weight as his lips were accosted over and over again, making him slowly lose his mind. "I love you in this bed," breathed John. "It smells so...manly."

"John..." Sherlock pled quietly.

"Yes, my dear?" John asked, unbuttoning his shirt, leaning down to nibble his collarbones.

Sherlock struggled to ask for what he wanted, but there was something bothering him. "I...I want...no, no, this isn't right-" he gasped, arching his back as John suckled his nipples. "I can't do this, I have to...I have a case-"

"But the hour is late," John quelled. "You've worked tirelessly, Sherlock. You've earned the right to some pleasure."

"Ah, yes...no, no!" Sherlock was at war with himself.

"Lie back, Sherlock," John ordered. "Lie back, and think of your precious John." He looked up and his eyes had changed from indigo to a cold shade of brown so dark, they may as well have been black.

Sherlock gasped in horror, pushing him away. "You're not John."

John/Moriarty laughed scoffingly. "Took you that long to realize? And they call you a genius," he sneered.

"Get away from me," Sherlock warned, scrunching away from the apparition. This fusion of his heart's deepest desire with his soul's darkest intentions. "I don't want this!"

"Oh, don't you, though," John/Moriarty taunted. "Couldn't go a month without drugs after he got married to the assassin to numb the heartbreak. Couldn't even bare the thought of living half a year more without him, so you tried to OD. Face it, Sherlock, a fantasy's all you'll ever get with John - you might as well get used to it...if you don't die first!"

The room was shaking. Sherlock clenched his eyes shut. Then they popped open. " _I know what you're doing_ ," he hissed. "You're trying to...distract me, derail me..."

John/Moriarty laughed. "Just remember, it's not the fall that kills you. You of all people should know it's not the fall, it's _never_ the fall...it's the **_landing_** _!_ "

Sherlock came to as the plane touched down on the tarmac...

**Author's Note:**

> In TAB, I saw Mind Palace!Moriarty (at least in that scene) as more of a representation of Sherlock's dark side, his most primal instincts (since the whole thing is really about Sherlock finally embracing the fact that he's in love with John). Sherlock doesn't think being gay is bad, but he believes his love for John puts John in danger (which, well, it does), so he relates it with the most evil (and gay!) thing he can think of - Moriarty. So while Sherlock was trying to focus on the Ricoletti case/how Moriarty could've survived the Reichenbach, his mind was trying to distract him with thoughts about gay sex (“it’s on the tip of my tongue”). And since having John come in and try to seduce Sherlock would be just a little TOO on the nose, Moffat and Gatiss stuck in Moriarty instead!


End file.
